Summer asphalt, I feel it against my cheek, warm with embarrassment and sun’s absorption, after toe snags into pothole and I tumble face first into the road’s crosswalk. This, while holding two Slurpees in July, neither spills, miracle of frozen blue sugar ice. Honking cars and trucks applaud, recognizing my brief journey from sky to ground, entertainment while waiting for red to turn to green. I rise slowly, take a small bow, try to grin, clutch the drinks and walk again.
Category: Poetry
The Screen Reaper
The screen reaper has taken all the books away. The ones we used to read by the fireplace, or on the rug, or in bed, or underneath a tree. The screen reaper doesn’t care about your memories or narrative works assembled on page after page, plots, characters, all those stories shaped in your head. No, instead it offers the everything/nothing, of videos, tv shows, movies, colorful clothes draped on dancing bodies, never-ending updates, snap maps, instagram images, and tiktok temptations. The screen reaper wants it all, all of you, your eyes, brain, mind, and time.
And most of us never fight back, we open the computer, clutch the clicker, scroll with our very own fingers, authors of our demise. The screen reaper has taken all the books away, and yet we let it stay, perhaps forever, it will be this way.
Boston Logan
Does everyone dislike the airport? Or, am I alone staring at Dunkin’ signs with glazed eyes wondering if this what we all want, Starbucks and the Potbelly Sandwich Shop, slurping a Diet Coke, while glancing at an iPhone screen. I suppose this is it, the pinnacle of humanity, to be able to listen to Little Red Corvette on a loudspeaker, while gnawing on a “free” Quaker Chewy granola bar, waiting to board a delayed JetBlue flight.
My Alphabet Poem
A-acorns, that become trees, big seeds, runner up, aristotle
B-butterflies, that become caterpillars, wrong, runner up, birds
C-candy, peppermint patties, product placement, runner up, cool
D-dentist, see above, little shop of horrors, runner up, doo-wop
E-everything, as in, i want all of it, runner up, earth
F-fern, wilbur, charlotte, templeton, runner up, farm
G-gas, petrol, fossil fuel, global warming, runner up, gun
H-hungry, as in, feed me, stomach gurgles, runner up, hearing
J-jungle, welcome to it, appetite for destruction, runner up, journal
K-kangaroo, the shoes you knew, 1980’s, runner up, keds
L-lyrics, we got fun and games, axl, runner up, lauryn hill
M-machine, rage, capitalism, scientific management, runner up, money
N-need, as in, i still want all of it, got to have, runner up, nothing
O-ocean, surf it, watch it, love it, moon waves, runner up, oscillate
P-perfume, fragrance, cover up sweat smell, runner up, party
Q-queen, as in, you are a queen, mercury, runner up, quiet
R-radio, am, fm, shortwave, fireside chats, runner up, racism
S-smart, as in, my boy’s wicked smart, runner up, skylar
T-teacher, we need more, learning, education, runner up, terrific
U-underwear, fruit of the loom, hanes, commando, runner up, unless
V-valuable, diamonds, friends, family, life, runner up, vaccine
W-wood, after the tree died, cedar, cherry, floors, runner up, wonder
X-x-ray, lead apron, teeth, bone image, runner up, xylocarp
Y-yacht, rock music, doobies, what a fool believes, runner up, yonder
Z-zoo, captured, monkeys, popcorn, languid lions, runner up, zebra
Tennessee in 10
- Grace, given and received
- Yes ma’am, no sir, y’all
- Sweet tea and grits
- Bronco, GMC, Jeep Wrangler, F-150
- Dolly Parton, who is Whitney Houston?
- Trader Joe’s empty, church on Sundays
- Vols, Titans, football, little else matters
- Nothing itches like chiggers, alive in your skin
- If prom is coming, spray tan
- Bless your heart, double-edged sword
Ode to Harpeth Hall
You students, you plaid, you dress uniforms
You Souby lawn grass, you magnolia shine
You red bricks, you Ann Scott Carell library
You Wallace, you Massey, you Bullard
You green hills, and rain, and snow sometimes
You cardinals darting from tree to tree
You middle school girls skipping and free
You AP scholars, you Harkness discussions
You United States history, your voices so bright
I sing your praise for days now past
Though some may say he’s a California lad
The truth is, he’s really quite sad
Harpeth Hall you have made your mark
And hark, you who I taught, I may be gone
but you still have my heart
Let Technology Go
Sit in silence, with screens in another room. Wait quietly
for each word to arrive. Have faith
that they will, that the universe will guide you/me/us.
Alone, we feel detached from the world where everything happens.
Now someone is tiktok singing, now someone is
posting a photo, now someone is smiling on a screen.
But no one is here in this room, which could be an ocean or
the branch of a tree, free to be. Dare we separate from the
netflix masses and those who have lost their way?
I understand them, I too have been lost
but now found.
Dorm Hallway Phone
it rings and rings, that
sound now fabricated for
flat screened rectangles in
jean pockets, or purses
back then you had to jump
off the bunk bed, sprint
down the hallway hoping
whoever was calling would be
desperate enough to let it ring
8 times, 12 times, so important
that someone, anyone answer
because it could be a girlfriend
or boyfriend, or heaven forbid
a parent calling about a pet
dog who was put to sleep
then tears in front of all
the other dormers in Foss Hall
and to think this happened
maybe twice a day, the phone rang
twice a day, or maybe three times
Sunset
ebbing light attracts us to the edge
of time, of earth, of day, of youth
the end of everything
the in-between, dusk, that word
a gateway into the unknown
we snap photos, pose with friends
try to capture something always lost
that we can never quite hold
1987 Basketball Hero
I shoot baskets like no one is watching. No one is
watching, except me, dream of youth, of future stardom, of
current stardom. Driveway hero of every game, concrete cracks
little lines where I place my sneakers, then heave up shot after
shot toward the red rim, its gravity like a sun, my sun, basketball
that sphere of influence. Minutes become an hour, become time itself.
Stand here, move there, under the hoop, arms and legs
leaping toward the sky.
Daniel W. Polk 